A Phantom Mystery
by Shelli
Summary: After recent events, the de Chagnys go travelling. However, the past is not far behind, as a mysterious figure haunts their every move. Not for Raoul-lovers.


**A PHANTOM MYSTERY**

  


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Raoul, Christine, Erik, and everyone else from the novel _Phantom of the Opera _belong to Gaston Leroux. Ayesha and Nadir (although I'm not sure if he will make an entrance in this fic) belong to Susan Kay. Other people belong to themselves.

  


**Authors Note: **For those who have never read Susan Kay's _Phantom_, Ayesha is Erik's spooky Siamese cat and Nadir is the Persian, the chief of police (daroga) in Persia, and a "friend" of Erik's, as least as far as Erik has friends.

  


Mrs de Chagny got down from her carriage and shivered in the cold night air. Compared to the south of France, where she and Raoul had just spent their honeymoon, Paris was dreadfully cold, and brought back memories she had rather forget. The underground lair, the memory of Erik's face, the memory of Erik's _kiss – _all were details she would have rather forgotten.

  


Raoul noticed her shivering, and tried harder to get the door to unlock. The key seemed to have stuck in the lock, and although he had told the servants the date of their arrival, there was no-one there to greet them, except a rather pretty Siamese cat sitting on the windowsill. There was something odd about that cat, as every time Raoul tried to shoo it away, it just turned and glared at him, rather like an old schoolteacher Raoul had been very frightened off had. He tried to forget it's presence, and concentrated instead 

  


Raoul's arm started to ache terribly, and so, in time-honoured tradition, he took the nearest rock, and aimed at the cat – uh, the window, and missed by a significant amount, hitting a rock over the other side of the garden instead, and causing Christine to jump with fright.

  


"Sssh, honey, it's just me, trying to scare that cat away."

"Erik had a cat just like that, Raoul. Do you suppose it's his cat, come to haunt me, because I killed him? I don't want ghosts trailing after us, if we do decide to travel Europe, as you suggested."

  


Raoul laughed at his wife's silly, superstitious ideas. "The Phantom's cat come to haunt you! Really, that's the kind of thing I expect from Meg Giry and those friends of hers, not my wife. Don't worry, Chrissy, I'll never let anything hurt you again."

  


And as if reacting to Raoul's foolish words, a breeze sprung up, chilling Christine through to her bones, making Raoul say something unrepeatable as the door refused to budge. He had heard the lock click finally, but the door had to have stuck with the damp, as no matter how hard Raoul pushed (and lets face it, he couldn't push _that _hard) the door remained stuck.

  


"Oh, never mind this place!" Raoul finally panted. "Let's check into a nice hotel over the other side of town, and then we'll go to that opera house of yours. They're performing _Tosca _tonight-"

  


"I don't think I really want to see _Tosca, _Raoul. All that violence – and torture – and attempted rape. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing we should see, after what happened today. Can't we go to the Louvre instead, or hear the bells of Notre Dame?"

  


Raoul turned to briefly glare at her. "I bought these tickets weeks ago, Chrissy! They can't go to waste, after all, now I'm not a patron any more, the opera is an expensive business!"

  


She sighed, but decided it would be better to let Raoul have his way, and close her eyes during the entire of the second act and the end of the third act. It wouldn't be too bad, and the music would be glorious. Carlotta had a cold and wasn't performing.

  


*

  


"What on earth do you mean?"

Raoul's angry shout penetrated the entire Opera House, but the young woman in charge of the entrance stood firm in her conviction, due to the appearance of two heavy-looking men behind her.

  


"Sir, your servant appeared three days ago to say that, due to your aunt's wedding, you would be returning the tickets and would it be possible to have a refund. Possibly with all the excitement, you have forgotten."

"Forgotten! I have no aunts, married or unmarried! What did this servant look like?"

"I couldn't really see, because the light was so bad, and he was wearing a black cloak and carried a Siamese cat under one arm, who meowed at me the entire time. Incidentally, he said that you would be along to take care of the fine for returning the tickets, so that'll be thirty francs, please, monsieur."

  


Raoul was about to say something else which I should not be able to repeat, but he looked into Christine's frightened eyes, and remembering that Erik had a Siamese cat, paid the fine without further ado, much to the annoyance of the bouncers, who hadn't had a real fight since that night the Opera Ghost killed Piangi, and Firmin and Andre got really drunk and started pulling each other's hair and calling each other names. It had taken quite some force to separate them.

  


"Come on Chrissy. We'll go to the Louvre instead, and look at the new paintings. We can always go to the opera when we're in London. Or Amsterdam. Or Venice. We have the entire world to see, and only this lifetime in which to do it."

  


And cuddling up to each other, they walked to the carriage, and the driver drove away to the Louvre, at a speed rather faster than usual, rounding corners on two wheels, and terrifying the two inside.

  


"Stop!"

"Raoul, I'm scared!"

"I command you to STOP THIS CARRIAGE!"

  


And stop it then did, but they were not at the art gallery. When Raoul looked out, they were in a perilous back street, dark and forbidding, with no streetlamps and no light of any sort, not even a moon. Clouds covered the navy sky, and the buildings rose on either side like great monsters, glaring down at them, the icy wind their icy fingers, reaching out to grab Christine, to drag her back to that underground lair, where darkness ruled. Yet out in Christine's "world with normal light" the darkness enveloped them still.

  


It was no wonder that she panicked, and ran down the street, making Raoul race after her, abandoning the carriage as he did so. When he turned around, holding his wife in his arms, even Raoul the moron could work out that the large black hole in the middle of the street where the carriage should have been meant only one thing.

  


Someone with the speed of a ghost had taken their only means of transport.

  


  


_I do have some small parts in future chapters for anyone who would like to be in this. Nothing large, ,just coachmen, spooky people with mystic warnings, owners of hotels, etc. If you'd like one, just leave a review and tell me. Also please tell me if you notice any errors – I have no beta reader, so sometimes errors may not be noticed._


End file.
